Through a Glass, Darkly
by jessi-the-untalented
Summary: What if the New Kryptonians had come to Earth earlier? How will their arrival affect Lois and Clark, on the cusp of a budding relationship? Will they realize what they have at stake? set around The Pheonix
1. Prologue

Title: Through a Glass, Darkly  
Author: Jessi Untalented  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada yada.

This is my biggest project in three or four years, and **definitely** my biggest project in the LnC fandom. It's kind of slow going, but stick with me and I promise we'll get there.

It's a working title, so it may change at some point.

Much love and thanks to Lara for Beta Reading for me!

**Through a Glass, Darkly**

**Prologue **

_He is the one._

The world seemed to crash down around him in a single flash of white-hot agony, wrenching him out of the secure cocoon of unconsciousness and into a pain-muddled reality. The only protest to this jarring awakening his body would allow was a deep groan, his lungs burning as they greedily sucked in air.

_A flash of green. Kryptonite. _

Something about a kryptonite... forcefield? Thoughts and memories swirled and danced in his brain, never settling in one place long enough for him to reach comprehension.

Two people in odd clothing.

A woman. Dark, long hair. Someone he sort-of knew.

A man. Dark and tall. Someone he was supposed to stop.

A gun.

_I intend to shoot myself._

He had saved him, hadn't he?

A current of panic flooded through him, overriding the pain of his every move and forcing him to open his eyes. Everything seemed so bright, even though it was night and the sun was long gone, and for a moment he had to shut them again. The world spun and swayed around him for a good while, but as the dizziness lessened the pain seemed to dim as well, fading into the background as his body and mind settled.

He became aware of the hard concrete and brick beneath and behind him, cooling his heated skin through the thin layer of spandex that did little to protect him without his powers. Opening his eyes again, he realized he was now alone on the balcony of his apartment. There was no sign of the two who had been there with him, and if it wasn't for the dull ache in his muscles that told him he had been exposed to kryptonite he might have thought he imagined it all. It was all so fuzzy, the memories of what happened going in and out of focus in his brain as if someone was adjusting the knobs of a projector.

It was Sarah, the new research girl from work, and the guy who claimed to be a realtor at the house where he found the micro transmitter. They had contacted him somehow, in his mind, that wasn't quite like super hearing. They had been waiting at his apartment when he got there, and when he had tried to reach the man... Hadn't Sarah called him Ching?...a kryptonite forcefield appeared.

He could remember the fear as the gun appeared in Ching's hand and his intentions to take his own life became clear. A fear he both felt and heard reflected in Sarah's voice as she argued with him to be reasonable. He could remember how everything seemed to slow down as Ching raised the gun to his own temple. Try as he might to speed up, it had felt like he was going in slow motion as well as he launched himself toward the man, stretching his arm as far as he could to knock the gun away.

And that's where most everything fuzzed out. The kryptonite had taken over all of his senses by then. What little he could recall didn't make any sense. Had he really seen them fly off? No, he must have been delirious. Other than that all he could remember was their voices, speaking words he couldn't make out in the haze of pain.

He had only heard one phrase, and it rang in his ears still. He didn't understand it, but he knew it would change his life.

_He is the one._


	2. Chapter 1

**Through a Glass, Darkly  
_Chapter 1_**

Clark barreled forward as quickly as the precious human cargo in his arms would allow, squinted eyes focused solely on the lights pouring through the window in red and white flashes from the beacons of ambulances outside. As he reached the end of the hall he was thankful to see the window was already unlatched and opened, enabling him to step out into the open air without a moment of hesitation.

He looked down in concern as the man and woman, one tucked under each arm, gasped and coughed for the fresh, cool night air, but they appeared to be okay otherwise, and he could certainly sympathize. Despite his powers, he felt swallowed whole by the intensity of the heat of the fire and the swirling black smoke that clouded his senses and made it hard for even him to breathe. As he deposited the pair into the capable hands of the EMTs, his thoughts drifted to a particular ice field in the arctic and he wondered wistfully if he would have time for a trip there before the next emergency caught his attention.

It had been a busy night and he was thankful that he had recovered quickly enough from the kryptonite force field to help out. Even stopping bank robberies and pulling people from house fires was preferable to brooding in his apartment, wondering if or when he was going to hear from Sarah and Ching again.

He hadn't seen or heard anything that so much as hinted towards their existence since they had disappeared from his balcony the night before. That made him more nervous than the tests they had put him through. At least then, he could do something besides sit around and wait for them. He had so many questions he needed answers to that he was nearly going insane. He had been so useless and distracted at work that Lois threatened to get him partnered with Ralph for the next story. Then, even worse, she became genuinely concerned for him.

Lois – a smiled twitched the corners of his mouth upwards at just the thought of his partner, but the warm, fuzzy feeling that usually accompanied that train of thought didn't have long to form. As he stepped away from the gathered crowd of firemen, EMTs, and curious on-lookers, his super hearing picked up what was sure to be his next adventure of the evening.

_'Kal-El, we need very much to see you.' _

A frown creased his brow as he realized it wasn't his super hearing but whatever strange means of communication Sarah had used to contact him the day before. He looked around, almost expecting to see her standing there, but she was nowhere in sight as he stepped off of the curb and farther away from the masses. "Sarah?"

_'Yes, Kal-El. I'm contacting you telepathically. It is a Kryptonian way. Ching and I need to speak with you. Come to the alley behind the Daily Planet.'_

The sentence was barely finished before Superman launched himself in the air, leaving behind only a sonic boom in his wake. It was only a matter of seconds before Clark Kent landed in the long, narrow alleyway behind the Planet. He automatically lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose, scanning his surroundings for anything suspicious.

_'Straight ahead, the door at the end.'_ Sarah's guiding voice turned his attention further into the alley. When the bricks surrounding the doorway faded away under his x-ray vision his stomach lurched.

Lead lined. If he had any doubt before that this was a trap it was gone now. Another one of their horrible tests. Like the ones Luthor had put him through when he had first invented Superman. Only worse. Much worse. They had sabotaged the space shuttle launch, nearly blown up the Daily Planet, and then expected him to choose between the lives of Perry and Jimmy and the whole of Metropolis. They knew he was Superman. They had Kryptonite.

But if there were a million reasons he knew he shouldn't go inside, there were a million and one questions he needed answers to. Answers only Sarah and Ching could give him. He had passed the other "tests," and would do his best at whatever they had in store for him now. He couldn't ignore them. Not when lives could be in danger, and not when he had so many questions.

The heavy door opened easily under his strong grasp, but he stood his ground outside, momentarily startled by the bright white glow echoing off of the walls of the room. Gathering his courage, he stepped forward and just barely suppressed a flinch as the door clanged shut behind him. The cold, industrial concrete and metal of the empty corridor were illuminated by something just out of sight around the corner, only adding to his unease. He inched forward, extending all his senses as much as the lead lining the room would allow, unable to remember many other times he had felt this vulnerable.

His cautious footsteps seemed excruciatingly loud in the silence as he rounded the corner, squinting against the nearly blinding whiteness of the orb in the center of the room.

_'Imagine an entrance, Kal-El, and you will find one.'_

Unsure, he lifted a tentative hand as images sprang to mind of doorways opening on Hollywood spaceships from the handful of alien invasion movies he had seen in his lifetime.

And then the brightness was gone, and, as his eyes adjusted, he saw he was now inside whatever kind of vessel this was. The walls were lined with panels of odd buttons and symbols, computer screens, little blinking lights, most everything out of those same alien movies. Sarah and Ching stood in front of him, looking as solemn and cold as their frigidly technological surroundings. He studied them for a moment, taking in the black suits much like the ones that had been wearing the night before, and the serious looks on their faces, then narrowed his eyes. "You're Kryptonian?"

"Yes." Sarah finally rewarded him with a small, if not slightly sympathetic smile, then moved away towards the center of the room. "Why don't we have a seat?"

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, a round metal table and three chairs appeared, complete with three glasses of an odd bluish liquid that reminded him more of window cleaner than something he would want to drink. Sarah and Ching moved towards the chairs and stood looking at him expectantly until he moved from his rooted stance and lowered himself into the nearest chair.

"But I thought Krypton was destroyed," Clark said carefully. He still had little reason to trust these people, but he hoped they would give him some, as well as explanations for everything they had done.

"It was. Lieutenant Ching and I were part of a group on a shuttle. We were already off of the planet and searching for a new place to inhabit when Krypton was destroyed," she explained calmly, cupping her hands around the glass in front of her but making no move to drink.

Clark just looked at her, completely unable to form his feelings into coherent words. He really wasn't the last of this kind? Why were they here now? They obviously wanted something from him, so what was it?

"Sarah..." His brow crinkled, that name suddenly sounding so out of place in this situation. "That isn't your real name, is it? Sarah?"

"No, my true name is Zara," she said in a voice patient enough that Clark was nearly certain he would get answers to whatever questions he asked.

"Zara," he repeated, regarding her for another moment as he tried to think of a starting place. He asked hard questions for a living, but the ability seemed to escape him at the moment. What had he learned in his journalism classes? Basics first, he supposed. "Why?" he finally started. Short and simple. Yet he had the feeling there was nothing simple about it. "Why all of this? You could have hurt people. You could have killed people. You very nearly did."

"It was necessary," Ching spoke, his voice a bit softer than during their previous meetings, but every bit as determined. "We had to see if you were worthy of your heritage."

"At the price of human life?" Clark asked sharply, suddenly sure he didn't want to be worthy of his heritage if this was what it entailed.

"If that is what it took," Ching said proudly, not so much as blinking under the heated gaze of the man across the table. "We had to know."

"What for?" he challenged. "What does it matter if I'm worthy or not? What do you want with me?"

"We need your help," Zara cut in, placing her hand briefly over Ching's as a signal she would take things from here. Seeing Clark relax a bit, she continued. "We came for your help. After the destruction of Krypton we found another planet to live on. On New Krypton we have done our best to restore all of our traditional ways of living, but due to these traditions a civil war is threatening to break out. We need you to claim your position on New Krypton and help to restore the peace."

"My position?" He asked, unable to keep the wariness from his voice.

"Yes, Kal-El. Your position as First Lord of New Krypton. Your position as my husband." 

* * *

Martha Kent was taking her latest confection out of the oven when she heard a familiar thump on the back porch. "Just in time for pie," she said lightly, appearing to anyone who didn't know about Clark's special talents to be talking to herself.

"Perfect," came her answer as the kitchen door opened a moment later, but the voice of her son lacked the enthusiasm that usually accompanied promises of his mother's home cooked meals.

It wasn't rare for Clark to come for a visit and a glass of fresh buttermilk after a particularly rough night as Superman, but it wasn't often something a sympathetic ear and the love and support of his parents couldn't fix.

She turned to him with a smile that quickly faded as she saw him. He looked more tired than she had ever seen him. His eyes were sullen and weary, his broad shoulders slumped lazily, the weak masquerade of a smile plastered awkwardly onto his face. The pie forgotten, she hurried to her boy and wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tense muscles under his slightly rumpled clothes relax automatically into her embrace.

She held him for quite a while before pulling back to guide him into the nearest chair. "What is it, Clark?"

He just looked at her for a moment before his mouth opened, then this brow creased in a frown and his mouth closed again, trying his hardest to find the right words. "Is dad around?" he finally asked. "I think you should both be here for this."

"He's out in the barn, I'll go holler for him." She gave Clark's shoulder a comforting squeeze, then tried to burry the building concern for her son and went out the back door to call for Jonathan. She was relieved when he emerged from the barn a moment later, and even more so when he wrapped his arm around her as if sensing her worry. 

"What's wrong, Martha?"

"Clark's here. Something's wrong, Jonathan, but he wouldn't say what until you were there too," she explained, taking her husband's hand as they walked back to the house and the warmth of the kitchen.

Clark was just taking his seat again after putting out three slices of pie and three glasses of milk. He wasn't at all interested in eating, and he was pretty sure they wouldn't be either once they knew the reason for his distress, but he needed to do something to get his mind off of things. Any mindless task would do, because he was sure if he spent another second alone in his head with all those things Zara and Ching had told him he would lose all sanity.

He had spent hours in the skies after leaving the Kryptonian ship, floating somewhere between earth and the stars, and feeling more alone than ever, despite the recent discovery of others like him. The weight of the decision he had to make threatened to destroy him at times. It would change his entire life; it would change the life of thousands, if not millions of people, but he had to make it alone. There were only two people in the world he could go to for advice, and the thought of telling them their beloved son may be leaving them, possibly forever, churned his stomach into knots. He had spent just as much time thinking about how to tell them as he did thinking about what he was going to do. And he still didn't know the answer to either of those things.

"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked as he and Martha took their seats on either side of Clark, both ignoring the pie and reaching for each of his hands.

He took a deep breath, suddenly more uncomfortable and nervous than he had ever been with his parents. "Do you remember the space shuttle I rescued during launch about a week ago? Then the bomb in the sewer in front of the Daily Planet I told you about? They were... well, it turns out they were tests. There were more, too, after those. Tests for me." Seeing the perplexed look on his parent's faces, he continued. "Tests to see if I was... worthy of my Kryptonian heritage. The people who set them up... they're Kryptonian."

He stopped when Martha gasped, pulling her hand away from his to cover her mouth. The shocked look on both of their faces told him they needed some time to recover from what he had just told them, and he gladly gave it, trying to decide where to go from there.

After a long while of silence, Jonathan turned his concerned attention from Martha to their son. "Are you sure, Clark? I wouldn't be too quick to trust them after all of the things they've done. Wasn't Krypton destroyed?"

"Believe me, I wasn't ready to trust them either, but they proved it," he explained quickly. "They have powers like mine. They knew things they couldn't possibly have known. Things I didn't know. They had another recording from my father, Jor-El, like the one in the globe from my spaceship. Krypton was destroyed, but they weren't there at the time. They were part of a group searching for another place to live."

Through all of this new information one thing stuck out most to Martha. Covering both of his hands in hers to gain his full attention, she asked a bit apprehensively, "You said these tests were to see if you were worthy of your Kryptonian heritage? Why?"

He suspected the look that came across his face wasn't an encouraging one. This was it, the moment of truth. He just hoped they could take it. 

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he gave his mother's hand a gentle squeeze. "They need my help. A tyrant is next in line as ruler. New Krypton is on the brink of civil war. They need me to help restore peace and make sure Nor doesn't take command. They need me to... They need me to return to New Krypton with them, and take my place as First Lord."

He found the smooth hardwood of the table top in front of him a much less painful place to look than the faces of his parents. He couldn't stand the look he knew he would find there. The look that said a thousand of their fears from the past twenty-seven years has just become a reality. 

The silence became so horrible Clark found himself extending his hearing in search for something other than the heavy thumps of his parent's hearts. A stray cat hunting crickets in the tall grass of the lawn, the lazy shuffling of Old Betsy in the barn, the cries of an owl in the woods beyond the fields. His mother's sudden screams.

He nearly jumped up, prepared to fight whatever enemy had attacked his peaceful country home, when he realized it was his own hearing amplifying Martha's rather quiet words.

"Are you going to go?"

He sat back in his chair with a sigh that was part relief, but mostly frustration. "I don't know. That's part of the reason I came here. I don't know what to do. This decision affects so much, so many people, there's no way I could make it alone."

"Oh Clark," Martha said on a quiet breath, clutching at his hand. "You don't know how much I want you to tell these people to go away and leave you alone... but would you be able to do that? Nobody in their right mind would blame you for telling them to get lost. But I know you, Clark... would you always feel guilty about it?"

He sighed a bit and glanced at Jonathan, having asked himself the same questions a million times. He had almost hoped they would ask him to stay, to give him a reason for telling Zara and Ching no, but he just found the same unending support and faith in him to do the right thing that he always found in them.

As if reading his thoughts, Jonathan gave him a nod. "We'll support you no matter what, son, but this isn't a decision we can make for you. We raised you to do the right thing, whatever you feel that is."

TBC


End file.
